


On These Nights

by Starren_Moonstone



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, Hanukkah, Hurt/Comfort, Jewish!Jon, Jewish!Martin, M/M, Nightmares, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), failed ritual AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27992697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starren_Moonstone/pseuds/Starren_Moonstone
Summary: Jon asked Martin to grab more potatoes from the village. As to why? Martin has no clue.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 5
Kudos: 65
Collections: The Magnus Archives Flash Fanwork Challenge





	On These Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This is the week one story I wrote for The Magnus Archives Flash Fiction Challenge. The prompts I used were Hanukkah and witness. Hope y'all enjoy!

Martin is stuck on why Jon really wanted a bunch of potatoes. Now, under any normal circumstances, Martin would be thrilled that Jon of all people has taken an interest in some sort of food. Potatoes could be used with a lot of different dishes in a variety of different ways. But… they just got a bunch of potatoes already yesterday. As much as Martin doesn’t exactly mind popping over to the village to get some more, he cannot help but wonder if Jon has something up his sleeve. 

Going up to Scotland has been honestly the best thing that has happened to Martin for a good few years. Specifically, running away to Scotland with Jon. Being in Daisy’s cottage has been nice. Utterly domestic and simple, but they both needed it for a good long time. No running, no panicking. Just waiting. Jonah Magnus did try to bring about the end of the world, but he didn’t count on the fact that Martin came back from his walk early and put an end to the whole thing. The failed ritual meant that the Eye lost power, and so… well, Jonah was going to have to come up with some other plan, but it gives them all time to find and deal with him properly. Both Jon and Martin have been working with Basira over the phone to figure out how to deal with Jonah once and for all, and things are looking up… despite not having much contact with anyone else up in the middle of no where. Not that Jon or Martin have many friends, but especially with the days building closer to the holidays, it would have been nice to see some friendly faces. Oh well.

As Martin does a walk around to make sure the two of them aren’t missing anything else, he did spy a chocolate mold set. Hanukkah is going to happen soon, or at least it feels like it. Martin would always make his own gelt and leave it around the Institute for his co-workers. It was his way to celebrate, along with lighting the menorah at home, since he didn’t have any family besides his mother. 

Martin frowns as he starts his walk back to the cottage. The big mistake that Martin made before coming out was underestimating how heavy a bag of potatoes can get within five minutes of constant carrying. He walks slower because of it, which makes the trip longer than normal, to the point where it is almost dark by the time he gets back to the cottage. Jon is out and about, with a nervous look on his face. He nearly topples Martin over running up to him and hugging him tightly.

“I was getting worried,” Jon explains, grabbing the bag from Martin to give his arms a break.

“We should have gotten that wagon after all,” Martin comments, an amused look on his face, “Seriously, though, why do you need so many potatoes?”

Jon looks at Martin with some incredulousness before saying, “Well… I thought it would be nice to have latkes tonight, since it is the first night of Hanukkah.”

Martin blinks longer than necessary. “No, really?”

Jon nods. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“It’s not that I forgot, Jon. I thought we had a few days.”

Jon shakes his head. “No. We talked about this.”

“Really? I don’t remember.”

They slip into the cottage. “…that could have been because you were half asleep. I did bring it up before bed.”

“Jon.” Martin gives his boyfriend a look. 

“But it’s fine. It makes the surprise better even.” Jon lights up and heads into the kitchen.

“What surprise?” Martin calls out, as he strips his coat off. He hangs it up and notices a certain jumper draped near the roaring fire. It was one of Martin’s until Jon had taken it for his own purposes. Out of curiosity, Martin walks over and sees that there are black splotches on it. “Jon, why does my jumper have ink on it?”

“Oh, um…. Well, come in here and I can explain.”

“Jon.”

“Martin.”

Even slightly frustrated, Martin still can’t help but smile has he rolls his eyes and follows Jon’s request. In the kitchen, Jon had splayed out a bunch of different ingredients all across the counter, and a frying pan on the unlit stove. On the table, there are a bunch of small blue painted dradels, each marked by a black sharpie. On the ground, there is a dried puddle of black ink, with the attempt to clean it up painfully obvious. 

“Oh, Jon~…” Martin picked up one of the dradels. They are well made, and it makes sense now why he had been seeing Jon whittling less and less. It was a hobby Jon kicked up while being up in the cottage. He said it was something to do with his hands, and distract him from whatever craving has a hold of him, whether it be for a statement or cigarette. Many poor misshapen ducks have been sacrificed to the fire, though Martin did manage to save Jon’s first duck, albeit charred from the flames. 

“Yeah, one of the markers exploded and I didn’t want to get the ink on the dradles. I did try to get it out but, well…”

“I think we have something for that somewhere…”

“And one other thing. I had to order it, and it came in a few days ago, which was a huge relief.” Jon took Martin’s hands and dragged him back into the living room. From a box that Martin never paid much mind to, Jon pulls out a menorah, silver and simple, with the Star of David at the base.

Martin’s face fell into a warm, loving smile. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” Jon puts the menorah on the coffee table. “I’ve always wanted to properly celebrate Hanukkah. Never had the chance to as a child, and so… being here, with you, I wanted to make this the best Hanukkah celebration. For the both of us.”

Martin didn’t have any words. No words could really describe how he is feeling. So he compromises by kissing Jon on the forehead.

88888

Entering the third night of Hanukkah, Jon finds himself trapped on the couch, pinned down by Martin who is acting as a weighted blanket. He doesn’t really mind, mostly because that day is particularly cold even with the fire in the fireplace roaring. Martin has long since fallen asleep; Jon can nearly feel Martin’s gentle snoring through his chest. It’s like purring. Jon strokes the top of Martin’s back as he continues reading a book analyzing modern poetry. Martin got it for him as a gift, and as much as he never really cared for poetry, he does want to have meaningful discussions of the subject with Martin. And in order to do so, he has to know about the subject in the first place as well as the different conversations around poetry as a whole. 

Jon eventually becomes aware that the room has gotten very quiet. He looks down and notices that Martin’s face is contorted, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth closed in a tight frown. “Martin?” Jon asks softly, putting the book down.

Martin doesn’t wake, but he does stir slightly, letting out a distressed moan. A nightmare then. Even with them being out of harm’s way for months, nightmares still find the pair of them often enough. Jon shakes his shoulder, calling out his name just a little louder. Martin does not wake, seemingly trapped in whatever nightmare has grabbed a hold of his subconscious mind.

Jon holds Martin closer to himself, trying to comfort him. “I’m here, Martin,” Jon says, “You aren’t alone, I’m right here.” He doesn’t know what ticks him off for this being a dream of the Lonely, whether it be from The Eye’s odd gift, or just being that much in tune with Martin after being with each other for nearly four months. Maybe even a bit of both. 

Jon closed his eyes, and suddenly he can feel the cold of the Lonely’s mist all around him. He snaps open his eyes and finds himself in the middle of a large manor, covered in mirrors and mist. Jon squints, trying to see what is in front of him. There is something there, though Jon can see nothing more than a vague outline.

“Martin?” Jon asks out loud, taking a few steps forward. Instead of finding his boyfriend, Jon ends up tripping over a chair usually found in a hospital waiting room. Jon calls out Martin’s name again, louder this time, before closing his eyes, trying to See where Martin is in this dream-scape. Three floors up, in a room full of assorted chairs. Jon takes off running, continuing to call out Martin’s name over and over again. As much as this is a dream, the grip of the Lonely is very incredibly real. Similar to Jon’s nightmares of drinking in other people’s terrors through the power of the Eye. 

Martin is found, sitting in a chair that Jon Knows is from the home that Martin’s mother was in. Taking a look around, each of the chairs are from different moments in Martin’s past, all of which highlight his own loneliness. Jon is once again faced with a Martin nearly incorporeal from the mists of the Lonely. At least this time, Martin isn’t completely taken by his patron. Rather, Martin’s eyes are actively wide with fear, despite the color of them having changed to that misty grey. 

Jon walks over to Martin, scooping his boyfriend’s face into his hands, so that he could look directly into Martin’s eyes. “I’m right here,” Jon says, pressing his forehead onto Martin’s. It is cool to the touch, and for a moment, Jon can feel Martin’s fear. 

Martin’s sob ejects Jon back into reality, still holding on tight to Martin. Jon brushes back Martin’s hair as the other breathes through his tears. Martin’s nightmares rarely had him screaming in fear, but rather keeping him quiet. Once Martin’s breathing is back down to a steadier pace, Jon asks, “Alright?”

Martin wipes his eyes, and sits up. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now,” Martin mutters quietly. 

Jon sits up as well, giving Martin a small smile. “I think… I… I would be more worried about you if you were used to it.” He takes Martin’s hand, and messages the back of it with his thumb. There is an odd feeling in the middle of Jon’s stomach. He has been getting better, but talking about his own feelings is still an experience. 

Martin takes a heavy sigh. “What time is it even?”

“We still have a few hours before sunset. You promised you were going to show me how you make the gelt, but if you aren’t up for it, we can do it another night.”

“And miss another day without using the dradel? That is a travesty and you know that.” Martin has a slight grin, still effected by his nightmare. 

“Shall we then?” Jon asks, standing up, holding onto the hand that has Martin’s hand tighter. Assurance that Jon is truly there, and is there to stay. 


End file.
